The Ceiling Leak
by Just Call Me Pip
Summary: Rocky lies in a cold room with a leak in the ceiling when he's visited by a not altogether unfamiliar dream. My first fic, I'm trusting you guys! Show me what you're all about! That means R&R, people.


A/N: The result of watching RHPS for the third time. Not a lot of viewings, I know... But I had noticed there are very few Rocky fics. "WHY?" I wondered, "WHY does no one write about this character? Plot bunnies spring from the ground he walks on!"  
  
So I guess all of this is just some thoughts I was having, about how often I see romance stories written that turn into sex scenes... and I thought... Rocky's an interesting character, because if there's one thing he's got his fill of, it's sex. So he wouldn't have the same types of fantasies other people would. Leastaways, in my world he doesn't. I'll shut up now. I guess I'm stalling 'cause this is my first fic posted and I'm making an excuse for it. Okay, now, here's the story!  
  
***  
  
There was a leak. Water was trickling in from the downpour outside, creating a reverse puddle on the ceiling before dripping uncomfortably onto Rocky's bare stomach. He tensed as the cold liquid burned into his skin, lingering until another drop pushed it over his side. Instinctively his hands strained against the manacles around his wrists, aching to relieve the burning itch that pained him. Sighing, he shifted slightly to relieve his body from some of the pain that plagued it.  
  
It had been some hours now, though time was indistinct in the windowless room, since he had had any visitors. Still, his body ached from the last encounter. His shifting had reopened old and new scratches down his back, sending the stinging sensation back through him. Limbs were completely lifeless, his energy spent from his last release. A dull throbbing pulsed through him, coming to its climax at his head, which felt twice as heavy as it should have.  
  
As he closed his eyes, he felt a warm hand rest on his stomach, taking away the cold uncomfortable wetness that had formed there. Opening them again, the boy saw the woman, dressed in long, flowing, unimposing clothing that covered her from neck to ankles. He smiled at the familiar face, as much as he could manage through his fatigue, at least. She ran her hands over him, easing his hurts and relieving his tense muscles.  
  
As she did this, she hummed softly, a low and soothing melody that floated and lingered about the room. Rocky's eyes closed, exhaustion sweeping through him again. All he wanted to hear was that music, and to feel that warm touch comfort him. They eased the chill caused by cold walls and cruel hands, touched a place where no one else ever had; the feeling was different, of love without lust, pure and simple and innocent as his heart was inside him.  
  
Slender fingers ran through his hair, tracing the same paths so many had before, and yet holding something different. Hands that had been warm on his freezing flesh were now cooling to his burning scalp, releasing a sweet scent of flowers from her and a muskier smell of his own sweat coming into contact with the air. He turned into her touch, so that her hand cupped the side of his face and caught his tears as they betrayed his eyes and left them. He felt so exposed, but with the chains that bound his ankles and wrists there was nothing he could do. All of him was subject to her gentle gaze.  
  
He felt a prick in his side, one that was familiar and foreboding, and felt again the nauseous blackness that suffocated him from all sides. Cool hands still caressed his face, and as he wept they reassured him. You will wake again, they promised, I'll still be here.  
  
***  
  
Riff Raff sighed as he filled another hypodermic needle with translucent amber fluid. Before him lay Rocky's sleeping form, pillows and blankets all in a whirl like a sea of cushions and sheets. His left side was wet, covered with water dripping from the ceiling. He would have to fix that leak. But there was a job to be done now.  
  
It seemed such a waste. Would he ever be perfect enough in the Master's eyes? Again and again the boy was sent into an artificial sleep, to be re- wrapped and re-made according to the Master's wishes.  
  
These musings were not his to have, however. He tapped the side of the glass tube to release any remaining air, and depressed the plunger so that a little fountain of fluid trickled from the top. Wiping cold sweat from Rocky's side, he inserted the needle, slowly introducing the fluid into his bloodstream. Toned muscles relaxed as Rocky fell into a comatose state.  
  
Taking out a ring of keys from his inside pocket, Riff Raff unlocked the chains that bound the now limp body to the bed. Blood had congealed around his wrists and ankles from the Master's rough handling and Rocky's pained straining. He washed it away gingerly, careful not to cause any more damage. Lifting the nearly naked body into his arms, he felt more blood along abused flesh that would have to be cleaned and tended before any work could be done.  
  
Sighing again, servant carried slave out of the cold stone room. 


End file.
